


Little Grey Men

by karrenia_rune



Category: Stargate SG-1, Supernatural
Genre: Challenge Response, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-04 23:00:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1796437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karrenia_rune/pseuds/karrenia_rune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It has to be the location, the timing and the fact that Sam is a Winchester, right? Why else would he disappear right out from under his brother's' nose and then Dean has to deal with a group of Air Force officers asking awkward questions?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Title: Little Grey Men  
Author: Karrenia  
Fandoms: Stargate SG-1/Supernatural  
Claim: Stargate, general series  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Tim Kripke and the CW television network, as do the characters of Sam and Dean Winchester; they are not mine. Stargate SG-1 belongs to Gekko Film Corporation, MGM Productions, and all other producers and creators; it is not mine. Note: The story was written for marii4212 in the 2007 Supernatural Road Trip Crossover Ficathon.  
“Little Grey Men” Karrenia

It seemed that their arrival in the state of New Mexico just happened to coincide with the annual hot air balloon festival, and much to Dean’s disgruntlement Sam had insisted that they check it out.

Driving the Impala through the busy city streets Dean sweated and simmered in the heat of a mid-day sun that beat down on his back and made his shirt stick to his back.  
Sam was in the passenger seat shuffling through the Rand McNally road map, fighting the air currents coming from the vents in car’s air conditioning unit. It was hot and Dean had been considering taking the car into an auto body shop to get A/C unit revamped, but all the same, he had not gone through with it, because there simply had not been time.  
Getting away from the debacle at the Folsom Prison had been the priority at the time and erasing their tracks from any would-be pursuers.

Sam had not objected that much Dean had realized, long ago, that one could only push a Winchester brother in an argument so far before they either backed down or agreed to disagree, or simply collapsed in mutual exhaustion. In the back of his mind, Dean thought, ’One of our more charming personality traits. I guess we got that one from our Dad. I can’t imagine dear old Mom doing that.’

**

 

Meanwhile Cameron Mitchell stood on side of a crowded intersection patiently waiting for the walk signal to come on before crossing over to the other side, Doctor Daniel Jackson stood beside him fanning himself with a recently purchased copy of the local daily newspaper.

Vala Mal-Doran had gone into a nearby store to look at jewelry, and Mitchell had felt it better not and try to prevent her from doing so. He had learned from experience that Vala had an independent wild streak that would allow, one that showed up at some of the most inconvenient and vexing times, but one that she had learned to curb when involved in critical missions; so right now if she wanted to window shop, it was best to allow her to do so.

Indicating with a slight nod that Teal’C should pull down the brim of his baseball cap to cover up the golden sigil inscribed on his forehead. They had learned from experience that the less they drew attention to themselves the better. A lot of people sported tattoos, but all the same it simply better practice to err on the side of caution.  
Interlude

Inside of his garage a part-time mechanic and full-time hobbyist in conspiracy theories and the proving the existence of the paranormal, sat at a folding card table working on cleaning the parts of a modified Colt .45 rifle.  
Five years ago he had been part of something bigger and much more important than his mundane shop of working on and restoring old cars; keeping the world safe from ghosts and demons. At first he thought he was going crazy, but then John Winchester had come and told him that these were real, and they had to be stopped, and his mission was to fight them.  
Joshua Tibbs wrote down what he could recall upon waking in a small tattered lined notebook that he kept on his end table until he had filled at least two dozen journals with notes in his own scrawled handwriting. And when that was not enough he turned to keeping files stored on his computer’s hard-drive.

The visions were not all the same, although he could not have said exactly why that should be so. Let other less informed people call him crazy, for at least the past ten or fifteen years, Joshua Tibbs had been experiencing vivid and detailed visions.

These were not simply induced by the workings of his subconscious or induced by something he should not have eaten before retiring for bed .  
These were real honest-to goodness waking visions, images so real and intense that they were imprinted on his memory long after he woke up and got ready to go to work at his other paying job.

At other times, he saw battles, in those battles the fight seemed to be occurring between of a group of people clad in military gear, armed with high-tech weaponry facing off against aliens with even more advanced weaponry and space ships, attempting to save the planet from invasion, occupation, or worse.

The worse part always seemed to stop just when it seemed that the fight would go against the good guys, and he would wake up, tangled in the sheets of his bed, in a cold sweat.

Despite the lingering fear that he was losing his mind Joshua Tibbs very badly wanted to know how the visions ended.  
However, despite his best efforts to force more details from his sub-conscious or the source of these visions; they simply refused to cooperate.

 

Dean Winchester had only heard of the man he had come to see through word of mouth and the information gleaned from other hunters at local Roadhouses.  
Of course, this was the first time he could recall one based this far west, but he shrugged and guessed that even specters needed to relocate from time to time,/ After all the way Dean figured I, one particular area of the country did not have the market cornered on ghostly and paranormal haunting and the like.

“Tibbs,” are you in there. I need to speak with you.” Dean knocked on the warped wooden timbers that braced the front door and after waiting a few moments for a response invited himself in. “Tibbs, it’s Dean, Dean Winchester, we spoke on the phone, remember?”

Joshua Tibbs looked up from where had had been resting with his eyes closed and his head pillowed up his folded arms. Dean back pedaled a bit at the man’s disheveled appearance. He looked like a man being hunted rather than the one doing the hunting; he had dark circles underneath his eyes, and his hair was long and unkempt.

“Tibbs?” Dean asked, a bit puzzle and a bit worried that this had either been a big waste of time or worse, a big mistake.

“That’s me,” replied the older man. “You must be Dean Winchester, I knew your father, you look just like him, smell like him, too, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“I guess not,” replied Dean. “When you spoke to me on the phone earlier, you indicated that it was vital that Sammy and I get down New Mexico as fast as possible, because something big was going to happen here.”

“I did, and I meant every word of it,” replied Tibbs.

“Even though we’ve never met in person, I know about your brother, and how he sees things before they happen, warning when someone might be in danger.”

“What the hell,” Dean exclaimed, folding his arms over his chest, brow furrowing in mingled anger and surprise. “There’s no way you could have known that.”

“No lie,” Tibbs replied. “Your father mentioned it would become a very real possibility, and that there might be others out there like your brother. Tibbs paused and reached up with one hand to rub his temples before adding. “I don’t know if Sam’s ability has manifested itself or not, but I can tell you from own personal experience, is that it royally sucks and it hurts like hell.”

“Look, my brother is my deal, so let me worry about Sam, okay?”

“Sure, fine; whatever. “The point is that, and humor an old man’s eccentricities, and paranoid conspiracy theories, but what if, just what if, we’ve been wrong all these years, what if, there’s something more out there, something’s that is much, much worse than ghosts, ghouls, and demons?”

“You have gotta be kidding me?” Dean griped. “Pretending that I am even buying these nonsense, for instance, what would be worse than demons and ghosts, just as an example?”

“Aliens.”

Dean stared at Tibbs, wondering if he had heard the other man correctly, looking around at the clutter that filled almost every available space in the warehouse.

As Dean took a closer look he realized that in addition to the ordinary items one might find in a warehouse/workroom, and the tools of the trade of a Hunter, the room was also filled with strange looking artifacts, and something that resembled a staff with a snake-head. “Yeah, right, little green men. Next I suppose you will tell we’re under surveillance right now and they’re gearing up to launch an invasion.”’

“Actually, all my research points to the alien being grey, not green. And I have a sneaky suspicion that the United States government is aware of their existence and does not want the public to know.”

“Okay, okay, a joke is a joke, and you really had me going there for a minute, “ Dean laughed, but don’t you think that’s taking things a bit too far, huh?”  
Interlude

Sam woke up on a cold metallic floor with his head ringing and a dry dusty taste in his mouth like he had been chewing on a whole bag of cotton balls. It was a familiar sensation but not an entirely pleasant one. His stomach protested in no uncertain times and his muscles twitched as he slowly regained consciousness, pushing himself up by levering with his elbows.  
As he slowly began to feel a bit more like himself, or at least able to sit upright, Sam realized that he was no longer in the motel room in Santa Fe, New Mexico, instead he was surrounded by sharp relief-edge four metal wall which that matched the floor. Scattered about the almost hexagonal-shaped room were half a dozen or more squat consoles.

Sam stared about Sam realized that one of the wall panels had shifted, like it was meant to be a door, and as he watched a figure came through the door and walked toward where Sam sat in bemused wonder. The thought the he might be in danger from the small four feet five figure simply had not yet entered his head. “Where the hell am I?”

Sam blinked and reached up with his hands to rub away some of then tension and strain from his eyes. It only helped a little bit, and shook his head to clear away some of the cobwebs from his mind.

“Welcome,” the small figure said in very clear, if overly-precise but quite understandable English.

“Who are you? Where am I?”

The four feet five figure was grey, grey from head to foot; that was the only way to describe him, grey from head to foot, and quite naked. “You are quite safe, let me assure you.” I am called Thor.”

“Thor, huh? Wasn’t he the Norse God of Thunder?” Sam replied.

“I see we are up on our Earth-based mythology.”

“It kind of comes in handy in my line of work,” Sam wryly replied, but I’ll have to admit I haven’t had any reason to delve deeper into that particular one.”

“If you’ll pardon me for asking, but you might wish to get to your feet. Time is short, and we have much to discuss.”

Sam shook his head, this was all just too much, the last thing that he remembered before he had fallen sound asleep in the motel room waiting for Dean to come back with dinner was fiddling with the television remote and then falling asleep fully dressed as soon as his head hit the pillow, and then waking up here, wherever ‘here’ was.

Sam Winchester had had very vivid and various dreams as a child growing up, watching movies, and somehow his idea of a first contact with a real live, honest to goodness alien, never quite seemed to work out quite this way.

Sam stood up and followed the little grey alien, Thor’s wake towards the door that he had come in from, and then they were through and in another chamber, much like the previous one except this one had a giant panoramic window that looked out on the backdrop of space.

“I guess, I really am not dreaming this, am I?"

“No, Sam Winchester, you are not.”

“How did you know my name?”

Thor tilted his head and gave Sam a significant look. “I have my ways,” Thor replied.

“Okay, be cryptic if you want to.” Sam sighed. “I don’t suppose that it matters that much in the grand scheme of things. If you didn’t know who I was already then you wouldn’t have grabbed me, right?”

“Affirmative,” Thor said. “Look out there, what do you see?”

“Big empty space, big black dotted with lots, and lots of stars. What am I supposed to see?”

..

“Think of it this way, from where you stand on any given point on the planet Earth, the sky is empty but filled with limitless possibilities. Even more so.

“What exactly are you trying to tell me?” Sam demanded.

“I sometimes forget how impatient humans are.” Thor smiled a wry twisting of his grayish lips. “And you are correct for reminding that our window of opportunity is closing. O’Neill was like you, once, but he grew out of it, and so will you.”

“Who’s O’Neill?”

“All in due time, Sam. All in due time.” Thor smiled again.

“You see, it took me the passing of a few of your stellar years to realize that you possessed the potential that I, or should I say, my people have been looking for.”

“Potential?” Sam asked, puzzled.

“Yes, and there are others like you out there, those with the gift of foresight, mostly untapped but still very much in evidence.”

“Look, let’s cut to the chase, if you’re talking about the visions, I’ll let you right here and now, that I’d rather never had them, sure I’ve been using them to help try and save people’s lives, but all they are is one massive headache.”

Thor nodded, his calm equanimity never once slipping while he listened to Sam’s tirade.

“I realize that, but given enough time you might come to accept the visions for what they are, neither a curse nor a blessing, and there are others out there who will help you on journey.”  
“Oh, name one.” Sam replied folding his arms across his chest.

“Very well, your brother, for one, And a few others come to mind, but for now I must send you back, and I suspect that you will met the others I mentioned sooner rather than later.” Thor smiled again, “For now, if you will step over here, and up onto the platform I will send you back to Earth.”

“Sure, why the hell not,” Sam replied and did as he was asked.

Encounter

“Sam, where the hell did you get to now?” Dean fumed as he paced up and down the length of the concrete parking lot in front of the motel. Sam’s cell-phone kept ringing and ringing but Sam did not answer.

On the periphery of his line of sight Dean thought he caught a glimpse of a shadow moving dimly outlined by the last fading rays of sunlight. Dean took his attention off trying to reach Sammy’s by phone and narrowed his eyes to see if the image would come clearer.

After a few seconds as Dean was about to give up and write it off as a product of his imagination, not enough sleep and too much time behind the wheel, the figure finally coalesced into the form of a coyote.

For a second there, Dean could have sworn that the animal’s eyes bore into his own and the expression on its face, if animals could be said to have expressions.

It was as if the creature was sending a message to Dean Winchester, telling him “I have a secret, and I want to share it with you, but only if you follow me. It does seems mightily pleased with itself for keeping that secret to itself,’ Dean thought.

His thoughts were momentarily interrupted by a gentle touch on his shoulder. Dean spun around, ready for a fight. Instead he saw a small group.

“Excuse me, but we’re from out of town and we could use some directions.”

“Sure, “ Dean replied relaxing a little bit.

“We’re looking for the house of a Joshua Tibbs, 1407 Larkspur LN, could you point us in the right direction?” The man and apparent leader of the group was tall, slender and sported a military-looking buzz-cut. To either side, there was one more man, blond and slightly shorter, another African-American man who wore a knit cap that had been pulled down almost to the bridge of his nose.

Dean thought it was rather odd to be wearing a knit cap in the sweltering New Mexico heat, because he was wearing a light cotton tee-shirt and the heat had already plastered the fabric to his skin. The other two, were women, and very attractive women at that, a blond, and dark haired brunette shading towards black, worn in two tight braids that hung low on either side of her face.

“Back that way,” Dean replied, gesturing back in the direction from which he had just come. “Don’t know what you want with the old man, but that’s your problem.”

“Actually, since you’ve just seen Tibbs maybe you could answer a few of our questions", the dark-haired man replied.

Dean said: “Look, I don’t know who you guys are, and right now, I’m in a little bit of a hurry, so if you don’t mind, I’m outta here.”

 

The big man crossed the few steps that separated them and placed a hand on Dean’s chest and pushed him against the wall of the convenience store that was still open at this late hour of the night. “I think not.”

“What’s it to you? If you’re muggers, you’re a bit overdressed for the occasion."

“Teal’c, let him go. There’s no reason to get hostile, if you’ll simply cooperate with us.”

“As you wish, sir,” the big man addressed as Teal’C replied.

“Sir, you’re military?”

“Yes, no. Oh, what the hell. We looking for Tibbs, and I’m afraid the man’s gotten himself involved in matters that he shouldn’t be mucking around with.

“The next thing you’re going to tell me is that it’s a matter of national security."

 

“Well, yes,” the blond man said. “But you’re not at risk, so far as we know. Has you’ve noticed anything strange, things out of place, unusual weather phenomena, disappearances, and the like.”

“It’s important that we know,“ the blond main said.

“Actually, I have, my brother’s missing and he’s not answering his cell phone. I’m going to go look for him.”

“He’s cute and he has a brother, hmm, this little junket just be fun after all. Here I was worried,” the dark-haired woman interrupted.

“Not now, Vala,” the dark-haired leader muttered under his breath.

“Why not, there’s nothing wrong with mixing a little business with pleasure, you have io know how to work it right,” the woman addressed as Vala grinned.

“She’s right, you should listen to her,” Dean replied, wondering if he could relax his guard and while his meeting with Jousha Tibbs had not been as productive or as informative as he might have hoped.

However, if these guys were looking to question him about his activities and research, well, Dean, thought, I may actually feel bad for the old guy, a little bit. He’s in way over his head here, after all these guys sound and look like they mean business.’

 

Conclusion

When Dean at last returned to the motel room that he and Sam had rented he found his brother lying prone on one of the beds, fully clothed, staring up at the ceiling. “Hi, Dean.”

“You disappear on me, you don’t call me to let me know where you were going, and all you can say to me when you get back, is; Hi, Dean?"

“I can’t really phrase right now exactly how it felt, but it was like some trippy acid dream trip except without the drugs and the withdrawal symptoms afterward.” Sam smiled. “There is that better?”

“No, but it’s a start.” Dean returned the smile. “Damn it, Sam, you had me worried and you know how I hate to be worried, especially about you. Do you have any idea what I had to go through?”

“No, but I expect that you’re going to tell me.”

“I get the third degree from a group of Air Force special division types, who just happened to be investigating our contact in New Mexico, Joshua Tibbs.":

“Tibbs?”

“Yeah, one of Dad’s old information sources from back in the day,” Dean replied and then took a deep breath. “In any case he wasn’t much help, all he wanted to talk about was conspiracy theories and how the government is keeping the existence of aliens a secret from the rest of ordinary folks.”

“We’re not exactly ‘ordinary folks,'" Sam replied, “Sounds like you went through a lot for me. You okay?”

“Just peachy. How about you?” Dean asked.

“Fine."

“Where did you go?”

“I think I was aboard a space ship.”

“Don’t be cute, and stop trying to yank me chain, just answer the damn question," Dean demanded.

“I did. No lie.”

“Okay, that’s weird,” Dean said, “Because I swear that big, bald black guy kept staring and staring at me. What did they call him? Oh yeah, Teal’C, with a clicky ‘k’ sound at the end of the name.” Dean cocked his head to one side thinking over the encounter with the military types. “The lady with the dark braids was pretty hot and I think she was really going for me.”’

“Nice focus, Dean.” He shrugged and added: “Among all the other hundreds of weird things that have happened to us,” Sam tilted his head back trying to relieve the pressure from the back of his neck, and only partially succeeding. Of the many strange things that they had encountered thus far alien abduction was certainly nowhere on the list.”

“What was it like?” Dean asked.

“Surprisingly polite. He called himself Thorand he said that my visions, as painful as they are to me right now, are not the curse that we’ve always assumed that they were. And there were others out there like me. I just need to find them before it’s too late.”

“I don’t know, Sammy,” Dean replied turning off the main drag and out onto the highway that lead outside of town.

“I’m not sure I like that sound of that. Let’s not even discuss whether or not he really was an alien, mostly because I still can’t wrap my head around that concept. I mean, other people out there seeing visions of folks in danger, okay that was weird.” Dean thought about it some more and then tacked on: “Well, weirder than usual for us.”

“Sounds about right,” replied Sam.


	2. Blood and the Spinning World

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 belongs to MGM Pictures, Gekko Film Corp, Renaissance Pictures as well its respective producers and directors as do all of the characters who appear here or are mentioned are not mine. Supernatural and the characters of Sam and Dean Winchester belong to Erik Kripke and the CW. Note: The story picks up shortly after where the previous story “Little Grey Men” left off.  
“Blood and the Spinning World“ by Karrenia

Sam had assumed that the encounter with the little grey man had been a matter of random chance, a fluke; something that he had hallucinated and while it was had been at the same time a bewildering and exhilarating experience it was not one that Sam Winchester cared to repeat.

Almost a month later he had gone to bed bone-tired but having learned from both experience and years of training never to put off checking and cleaning his weapons and equipment for later Sam finished doing so shortly before midnight and then wearily crashed down onto the motel room bed. Dean had gone to sleep as well and his snoring while probably loud enough to disturb anyone else who had not more or less become desensitized to it by now, was also deep asleep.

Sam closed his eyes and rolled over reaching up to grab the pillows in his hands attempting that he would fall asleep almost instantly considering just how bone-weary exhausted that he was; but a tingling sensation made itself known at the soles of his feet, traveled up his legs then to his thighs and then to his stomach.  
A half-remembered smell of cinnamon mixed with metal alloy smell that he could not quite place and it nagged at him to no end that he should really be able to place it forced him to release his grip on the pillows and roll back over until he lay on his side on the bed.

*** Thor with the studied calm and poise that came so naturally to his species waited on the bridge of his ship while Lieutenant Cameron Mitchell, evidencing markedly less patience and poise than that Thor of the Asgard paced, and if Thor possessed a sense of humor that would be intelligible to those of the Tauri, he might have imagined that the human was wearing groves into the metal decking. By contrast Doctor Daniel Jackson seemed much calmer if not any more pleased with matters.

"Remind me again, why you want to go all this trouble. It's bad enough we had to go through it again with Jack in the first place."

"May I remind you, that the incident to which you refer is now irrelevant, Doctor Jackson and the damage has been done. At the time I did not condone the actions of my colleague and the resulting benefits or harms to the clone," Thor paused and shrugged his narrow bony shoulders, "has become more or less immaterial."

"Immaterial!" exclaimed Mitchell, pausing briefly in his pacing as if the set of his shoulders and the angry line of his mouth were not enough to expression his complete and utter dissatisfaction with that particular response.

"I understand and appreciate your concern," Thor sighed gently as he stepped closer to the small group ignoring the snickering and sidelong glances from the only female in their group.

"If you plan on well using this Sam Winchester for another of your cloning experiments, Thor, can I have the original? He's cute in a sort of rugged sort of way, with those big brown puppy-dog eyes,” asked Vala.

"Absolutely not!" Thor exclaimed, While your previous encounter may have been something of a fluke. I believe I did learn something useful from it."

"Oh, really?” Mitchell demandded, before he could think better of the question or even if he should pursue this matter further he asked. "Like what?" he demanded.

"To wit, while I am still yet uncertain on the nature of the chemical and perhaps physiological anomaly in his blood stream," replied Thor. "I believe I can continue to run tests to determine its nature and thereby extract a serum that will be vastly beneficial to all concerned."

"What's so special about this particular human's blood?" Vala asked interested in spite of herself.

"I will not know for certain until I run further tests."

"So beam him up here, or whatever it is you do," Mitchell sighed.

"Agreed," nodded Thor pleased, keeping his thoughts about certain aspects of the human's physiology to himself, as the old saying went, what they did not know would not hurt them. In the back of his mind Thor wondered if perhaps he should mention something about his theories to Mitchell and his team.

After all the Tauri and the Asgard had been allies for almost six or was it seven of their planetary years and as allies it would be only natural to have a free and open exchange of information; and then decided that if the blood tests proofed and he was able to confirm his suspicions, then he would tell them. O'Neill would have understood, having been through any number of similar experiences himself not to mention that confounded unauthorized cloning experiment.

"Ah, well," Thor sighed, "We will know soon enough."  
***** The wind had changed direction again for at least the seventh time in the last forty eight hours as it cut across the tall grass and hard packed ground of the wide-open grasslands.  
The down side was that it made finding cover difficult to find among the sparse trees; the plus side that anything gunning for them also would be highly visible for miles around. In the back of his mind Dean Winchester thought given the circumstances and the conditions; and the way things had been going for them of late; he would chock that up in the win column. As they normally did in such conditions his thoughts naturally turned to his brother, Sam.

Mere months ago their father had told them of the deal made with Yellow-Eyed Demon who had quite literally exchanged his soul to give Dean another twelve months to live.  
A bum deal all the way around, but it was better than the alternative. After the anger and the bitter recriminations, the arguments Dean figured that Sam had finally come around; but inside where he could bottle up his deeper and rawer emotions; Dean was well aware that the whole thing was eating him up from the inside.

“You ready?” asked Dean aloud.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” replied Sam with a short nod of his head.

In a dead sprint the two Winchester brothers dashed across the ten feet or so that separated them from where they stood by the copse of fir trees and the ruined shack that had once been the site of trapper’s cabin and now came up as hot spot of paranormal activity.

“You take the ten on the right, and I’ll take the ten on the left,” Sam shouted over his shoulder as the dark, snarling figures burst from the interior of the shack.

“Gotta love your sense of the fair division of labor, Sammy,” Dean yelled back as he rushed into the fray and let loose with rock pellet bullets and when the ammo ran out with bare fists.  
Sam tried not to think too much about what they were doing. Fighting monsters and saving people after all was just part of the family business, but somehow with or without his acknowledging it; this fight had become way too personal.

A flying tackle by one of the attackers with its muscular arms wrapped around his waist t knocked the breath from Sam’s lungs at the same time it knocked off his feet and onto his backside.  
Sam grappled with his attacker and after several seconds of grunting and struggling managed to get free and stand upright once more. In their struggles and the heat of battle he had gotten farther than he had thought. 

 

He now stood in the midst of the remains of various cars, engines and the discarded rubber tires of what looked to have once been a motor pool of sorts. “Great, just great,” muttered Sam under his breath.  
The burning sensation behind his eyeballs and building inside of his chest indicated that his ability was beginning to slip from of his conscious control and that was never a good sign.

“Dean! Something weird is happening to me. Well, weirder than usual!” You’d better get over here. Now!”

“Sam! I’m a little busy at the moment. Just hang on a little bit longer!”

Dean dispatched the final attacker and lit the now heavy dead weight slid to the ground. He stepped over the body with a shrug of distaste and ran full tilt to the far side of the shack.

At that instant another quite unfamiliar and even strangely tingling sensation swept over him and he closed his eyes for that instant oblivious of the danger around them, a silver gold glow enveloped his body and then he disappeared.

Seeing his brother vanish into the thick air of a dust-choked abandoned motor pool yard came to Dean Winchester as something as quite a shock. The more so that it came without warning. He crouched down and checked the safety on his rifle to be certain that it was off and fully loaded. Kneeling down in the hard-packed ground Dean swore a blue streak.

“Typical. Sam disappears without a trace, again without so much as a by your leave,” Dean muttered and stomped the heels of his boots into the ground, wondering if hitting one of the overturned hulks of would help relieve some of his tension and anger, and if it didn’t wondering if blasting one of his favorite Metallica songs would do the trick, before adding. “And again, I’m the one left holding the bag. For once, I wish someone would let me on the big to-do. Would be nice, for a change. Get back soon, Sammy.”

*** Thor had been watching the altercation of the two brothers were currently engaged on one of a several dozen monitors that lined the wide chamber hopefully without appearing to give the impression that he was doing so from the Tauri who had been present when he announced his intention to beam up the younger of the two siblings.

Lieutenant Cameron Mitchell and his team were distraught enough by the notion; it really would not do to let them know that there conceivably could be another involved as well.

The tingling sensation that had overtaken Sam Winchester shortly before he seemingly lost the five or six seconds of his life and then regained consciousness on the cold metal floor of a wide chamber with a slightly built gray bulbous eyed being staring down with an expression almost like compassion and regard in those big wide-eyed stare. Sam sat upright and reached up to try and rub away the beginnings of a massive headache before glancing around at his new surroundings both by force of habit and curiosity. “Well, I was going to ask the obvious question of where the hell am I; but I guess whereabouts are the least of my concerns.”

“Do not be alarmed, Sam Winchester,” the grey being said as he reached out a head and offered it to him to help him to his feet. The differences in their relative sizes was so pronounced. The gray being stood about just under half a meter tall and Sam Winchester stood just over two meters tall; it was laughable, or it should have been.

When Sam realized that there something oddly familiar about this small grey and polite little fellow. He smelled like cinnamon and metal and old leather. And a memory buried somewhere resurfaced. “Thor?” I thought you were a fever dream.”

“Welcome back, Sam Winchester.”

“He’s cute, but I recall he had a brother,” remarked Vala as she came over to inspect the new arrival.

“Not now, Vala,” an unfamiliar blond man wearing a military uniform with a strange pyramid-shaped logo on the sleeve of his jacket reprimanded her.  
Sam stood up, shaking off the hand that Thor held out to him. “That’s okay. I can manage.”

The man that appeared to be the leader of the small group stomped over. “I don’t know if you can make any sense of this, but we’ve waiting here for almost twenty four hours while our host,” he dipped his head in the general direction of Thor, “went looking for you. And while I don’t understand everything, I know enough that even the best of intentions have a tendency to back-fire.”

“Uh, thanks for the warning. What’s going on here?” demanded Sam.

“I have perhaps been somewhat evasive, Lieutenant Mitchell, and admittedly have taxed your patience and good will thereby,” replied Thor. “But please bear with me. I require a sample of Mr. Winchester’s blood to run a few more tests.”

“What’s so special about his blood as opposed to say Colonel O’Neil’s or even Doctor Jackson’s here?” Vala asked.

“All in good time,” replied Thor.

“Um, don’t I get a say in this?” Sam asked.

“Our technology is quite advanced, the extraction process is quite painless,” Thor patiently replied. “You won’t feel a thing and it will be over in a matter of minutes.”  
He reached down and a shelf popped open almost seamlessly from what had appeared to Sam as unbroken wall of metal, reaching into the drawer Thor withdrew an oblong flat metal disk with a small needle that jutted out from it. “Uh, you might want to reconsider this. You don’t know where I’ve been.”

“I still think I prefer his brother,” Vala interrupted. “If this squeamish about a little needle.”

“Shut up, Vala!” Doctor Daniel Jackson shouted mopping his brow.

“Just who are you guys anyway!” Sam demanded. “It’s not the needle I am concerned about, lady.. Sam trailed off as Thor approached, rolled up the sleeve of his loose cotton short and applied the needle to extract a small sample of his blood.

“And Sam, I realize that this disconcerting for you at best.” Thor sighed and taking the device with the sample of Sam’s blood strode over to one of the consoles and placed the sample into the monitors. After a moment exchanging puzzled and significant glances with the others gathered in the chamber stomped over to stand beside Thor.

“Well?” he asked.

“Fascinating!” Thor sighed.

“I feel like I the guest of honor at a sci-fi convention. Fascinating is not going to get you by for much longer. And considering the week I’ve just had my patience is all but expended. Why is it so damn fascinating!”

“Because during our previous encounter I managed to theorize that there was a genetic anomaly present in your blood that I could use to synthesize an antibody to a predicament that is gravely pressing my people.”

“Great, I know I should never have let Dad and Dean talk me out of staying on at Stanford,” muttered Sam under his breath. “Or I might actually have understood what you just said. He reached up and finger-combed through his tousled dark brown hair. “Wait a second, what did you mean about your people?”

“AH, I sometimes forget that I am dealing with someone unfamiliar with space travel and extraterrestrial life-forms.” My people are known as the Asgard.” Thor allowed himself a small grim smile to crease the corners of his mouth upwards at the corners.

“Aliens! That’s it! This is a fever-dream. You are all hallucinations so send me back already. You got what you wanted from me anyway!”

“For what it is worth you are responding under these circumstances with remarkable ablomp and with the natural skeptics that we have noted is typical among your species.

“You’ve been observing us, and by us, I mean humans?" asked Sam.

In the background he could see Vala roll her eyes and stick out her tongue, and ignored her as he waited for Thor’s response.

“Yes.” In fact,” Thor glanced around at the others who had come to listen to the exchange. “In fact, he reminds me much of your Colonel Jack O’Neill.”

“Really, now, Thor, old coot, send me back. Now.” Sam said as he squared his shoulders and crossed his arms over his chest.

“As you wish. We’ll be in touch.”

As the golden haze surrounded Sam once more and a split second before he vanished he managed to get out. “Don’t call me, don’t stay in touch. Just leave me the hell alone. It’s not as if I don’t have enough problems on my own.”

Thor nodded his head. “Indeed. “Stranger things have happened.”


End file.
